


If, then.

by TheLateNightStoryTeller



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller/pseuds/TheLateNightStoryTeller
Summary: Cute, fluffy shorts set in a world where Tara didn't die and they lived happily ever after. The third one is a bit more angsty.





	1. Hygge

The fire crackled merrily, spreading soft smelling warmth through their little home.

Willow had twisted herself so she could see over the back of the sofa, watching Tara drop a pair of generously sized marshmallows into each steaming cup. One bore a line of kittens trailing behind a fluffy mother cat and the other was dotted with various terriers, each wearing a scarf or a hat.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to… I can bring them if you’re tired,” she offered.

“I think it might be a little early for that,” Tara mused, already carrying them over.

She offered Willow the one with the dogs on it and settled in beside her, snuggling close. Their slippers butted together on the coffee table and they smiled.

“Are you nervous?” Tara asked, after a moment.

“Aren’t you?” she answered. “In only a few months… well five and half…”

“It feels a lot closer than that,” she agreed. “But I’m excited too.”

“Yes!” Willow jumped on the word, grinning enthusiastically to ensure her apprehension wasn’t misunderstood and moving her arm so quickly her hot chocolate sloshed dangerously close to the sides of her cup. “That too. I’m as excited as a cat in a catnip shop…”

 Miss Kitty lifted her head, casting her humans a curious glance but neither of them noticed. Tara was smiling softly at Willow, listening.

“But?” she prompted.

Willow deflated slightly, shooting her an apologetic look. “I’m also kind of… scared…”

Tara nodded. “A lot of things are going to change.”

“Yeah,” Willow agreed. Then she shook her head. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. Tara what if…” She took a breath, staring into her drink. “What if she- or he- what if they’re like me?”

Tara gave her a one-armed squeeze. “Oh, honey, I _hope_ they’re like you. Even if they don’t have your DNA, you’ll still be their mom.”

Willow watched her marshmallow melt, eyes dark. “What if I don’t set a good example? I know they’ll be magic… if it’s a girl they’ll have powerful magic like you… and I’m not exactly Mrs. Role-model when it comes to…”

“Are you going to teach our child dangerous magic?”

“Of course not!” Willow’s head snapped up and she felt a prickle of panic until she caught sight of Tara’s raised eyebrows.

She pressed her lips together, a mixture of guilt and confusion stirring in her belly. “I’m just… I don’t want them to make the same mistakes that I did. I don’t want to mess them up.”

“Me neither,” Tara admitted. “I thought I was a demon until I was twenty years old… I- it… It makes me think maybe we should limit their visits with my father…”

Willow met her eyes, silently agreeing.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Tara asked seriously.

She nodded, running a hand down her arm. “I do.”

“I think, if they do have powerful magic, you’re going to be a _good_ influence on them. You understand how important it is to be careful, what magic is capable of. You’re wise. I see it in you all the time and they will too.”

Willow let a small smile tug at her mouth. “Wise like Athena?”

Tara smiled, giving her temple a kiss. “Wise like Athena.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute. Willow leaned into Tara, absently tracing lines across her belly.

“And you’ll make sure they feel special,” she added softly. “And good. They way you do for me.”

Tara nuzzled against her hair and they closed their eyes, content. The sun was setting and snow was building up on the window ledge outside but inside the fire continued to crackle, warming their toes. It seemed to spread across the room, like magic, bathing them in a warm glow of peace and joy.

Miss Kitty, tired of being ignored, leapt up onto Willows lap, butting her head against their hands to ask for pets and they giggled at her, obliging.

“Willow,” Tara said quietly after a moment.

“Hmm?” she looked up from the cat, her heart swelling at the sparkle in her eyes.

“I think we can do this,” she said.

Willow was still scared, they were both scared, but she thought that maybe they were supposed to be. Sometimes something was scary because of how much it mattered, how big a world it was opening up. Your first date, your first day of school, your first job interview…. Your first child. She could handle scary though, vampires and demons and goddesses, scary wasn’t anything new. She could handle being afraid, especially if Tara was there to do it with her.

She took Tara’s hand, holding it over her stomach and they smiled at each other.

“We can do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hygge (pronounced hue-gah) is a Danish word that is a feeling or mood that comes taking genuine pleasure in making ordinary, every day moments more meaningful, beautiful or special. This is what I'm getting from the internet but I'm not Danish so no promises this definition is 100% accurate.


	2. I love the rain the most

Willow found Tara sitting the floor of their new bedroom, a castle of boxes and books surrounding her. She was so enthralled in whatever it was she was reading, that for a moment she didn’t notice her entrance and Willow took the opportunity to admire the way the sunlight washed over her face.

It was sappy, she knew, but this was the first time she’d see Tara in their new room and she wanted to hold it still for a moment. She wanted to remember the bubbly feeling in her tummy of having a place that was just theirs for the first time. This wasn’t a student dorm, or Buffy’s house, this was their home, together.

“What are you reading?” she asked at last.

Tara looked up, surprise showing on her face. “Willow… when did you?”

“Just in time to catch you taking a break,” she teased.

“I’m sorry I just…” She gave a half smile, gesturing to the books. “Beth sent these boxes over. They used to be my mom’s…”

Willow hadn’t heard that name in a while. She didn’t have fond memories of Tara’s cousin Beth, especially after she’d found out some of things she’d said to her about her magic making her evil, but if Beth had brought these boxes over maybe she’d turned over a new leaf. Or at least started to.

“Your mom’s?” she repeated softly, finding a clear space beside her. “Are you OK?” she asked, giving her arm a gentle pat.

Tara nodded, still smiling. “I am. She kept a journal. I.. I uh… I think she left it for me. The box had my name on it.”

Willow peered into the dusty box, catching a glimpse of a dark green crystal, a bundle of books and what looked like a stack of journals almost identical to the one Tara was holding in her hands.

Turning back to Tara, she saw her run her finger down the paper over the neat, slanted writting. It looked so old and brittle, like it would crumble to dust if you prodded it the wrong way but it somehow seemed right to Willow that Tara could touch something so fragile without hurting it.

“I remember this,” Tara said quietly, a small smile lighting her face.

Willow shuffled closer, taking permission to run her eyes over the careful handwriting when Tara tilted the book towards her.

“You do?” she asked. “You must have been really young.”

“I was nine,” she told her, still staring at the page. She gave soft chuckle. “I was so scared of the storm. It was so… I was so little it seemed gigantic.”

“I think storms are still pretty big now,” Willow mused, giving her a fond nudge. “And loud. With all that thunder, waking you up at night.”

“It was the rain,” Tara told her. “The sound of it on my window, it was like someone was trying to get in. But my mom, she told me…” She trailed off, staring forward as the memory resurfaced.

“She told you it would stop,” Willow guessed when the pause lingered, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Tara’s ear.

Tara smiled at her touch, shaking her head when Willow’s hand dropped to her knee. “She told me about where it goes. And… and where it comes from.” She took Willow’s hand, lifting her chin to look at her. “There’s… It’s a cycle. The water from the rivers, the oceans, the trees, it all turns into a vapour that… makes the clouds. And then the clouds get too heavy and… and it all comes back down again.”

“It’s a circle,” Willow said, though she still didn’t really understand why this made the rain on Tara’s window less scary.

“But it’s more than that.” Tara went on. “It’s a salad spinner.”

Willow raised her eyebrows. “A salad spinner?”

“The water doesn’t go right back where it came from,” she explained. “The clouds float around so it ends up… um, everywhere. Everywhere it needs to be.”

“So the grass can have some water too,” Willow said, smiling in understanding.

“And the flowers under my window,” Tara added. “And the toads in the woods.”

“And the little mouse in the field,” Willow suggested, making Tara smile even wider. “That’s really beautiful, Tara.”

“It’s why I love listening to the rain.” Tara touched her cheek, eyes soft before she leaned forward to kiss her. “We should finish unpacking.”

/-/-/

A few months later their living room was packed with guests for Tara’s birthday. Usually they had enough room for them and the rest of the Scoobies, but with the added visitors they’d needed to bring in chairs from the kitchen.

Tara sat squished between Willow and Dawn on their little couch and looking absolutely delighted despite the discomfort as she read the tag on Willow’s gift.

“That’s really sweet,” Dawn said when she’d let her read over her shoulder. “But I don’t get the part about loving you to the pile o’crackers and back.”

“I’ll show you someday,” Tara promised. She met Willow’s eyes, glowing as she tore through dark purple wrapping paper.

Willow watched, noting with some amusement that Tara’s eyebrow’s rose in surprise when she uncovered the title _Splendid Salad Spinner_ on the top of the box.

“… thanks.” Tara said. She kept her tone polite but Willow could tell she was confused.

“Open it up,” she prompted, stomach buzzing. She’d been bursting to see her reaction ever since she’d put the gift together two weeks ago.  

Tara carefully undid the lid to the box, catching the CD case that fell out of it as she did. The look on her face was worth the wait. She held the CD in her hands, eyes bright.

“Willow.” She pulled her into a tight hug which she heartily returned.

“I thought you could listen to it, on the nights when it isn’t raining… if you wanted to. There’s a thunderstorm, and… oh and rain over a river. That was my favourite in the store.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Anya from the chair across from them.

“I think it might be a witch thing,” Xander explained, though he too sounded confused.

But the two of them hadn't heard him, wrapped up in the magic of the moment.

“Thank you,” Tara whispered.

_‘Thank you,” Willow thought. ‘For sharing this with me. For everything you’ve shared with me.’_

She couldn’t form the words to express how she was feeling though, especially not in front of everyone like this, so instead she planted a kiss onto her forehead.

“Happy birthday Tara.”

/-/-/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this story was based on the song “Lullaby for a Stormy Night” which I have no clue how I know or where it even comes from but it’s a very pretty song and I think Tara would like it/maybe even sing it.
> 
> The pile o’crackers is one of the constellations Tara made up. So what Willow was saying is I love you to the stars and back.
> 
>  Is it cheesey? Yes it is. Do I care? I do not.


	3. Questions

It was mid December, snow piling onto the streets in thick cold flakes outside the window. It was chilly out but the coffee shop Tara had asked Xander to meet her at was small and warm with big windows that let in the grey winter light. Outside, people strolled past, doing their last minute shopping and a cheerful Christmas song played over the radio. Tara had been staring at her coffee for a few minutes now, trying to figure out what to say, but she could tell Xander was starting to feel awkward and she was pretty sure the Barista already thought they were on a date. She didn’t to make the situation any weirder by staying silent too long.

“I’m going to ask Willow to marry me,” she blurted. Her face went scarlet and she stared around but no one was listening. Looking back to Xander she saw that he was smiling at her.

Good. That was a good start.

“I, uh, I was going to ease into that better…” she admitted sheepishly.

“No it’s great,” he assured her. “I think it’s great that you two- wait.” He frowned. “You haven’t asked her yet?”

Tara shook her head.

“Why are you telling me then?” he asked, clearly confused. “Shouldn’t the asking Willow part come first? And then you can tell me together. I’m no expert on marriage proposals, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to start with Willow…”

He trailed off, waiting for her to explain but she found she couldn’t. Her throat was in a vice-grip, her stomach churning beneath it.

“…are you asking me for Willow’s hand in marriage?” Xander asked after a pause. “Because I don’t think she’s the kind of girl-“

Tara shook her head. “No,” she said quickly. “No I’m not…” She pressed her lips together, gathering the right words. “I’m asking you if I should.”

Another pause. “…. Huh?”

Tara stared down at her coffee, tracing her thumb along the rim of the plastic lid. “You love her,” she began. “Really love her. L-like…. The right way.”

Xander cocked an eyebrow. “Again I say, huh?”

She tried to explain but, again, her throat closed up. This was harder than she thought it’d be. She trusted Xander, he was a good man, but even so, admitting these things out loud was one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

“Is someone giving you two a hard time?” he asked, leaning forward so he could lower his voice. “Is this because you’re a girl? Because if Bob’s Jewelers wont sell you a ring, I can go over there and give them a piece-“

“I have a ring,” she assured him. “It’s not about that Xander, but… thank you.”

He shrugged. “That’s what family does.”

At that, Tara allowed herself a small smile. “I have a ring,” she repeated, reaching into her bag. Maybe it’d be easier if she took a break, thought of something nicer.

She fished out the little velvet box, opening it for her friend across the table.

Xander smiled. “May I?” he asked, reaching out to take it.

Tara nodded, still smiling.

He held it up to the light, watching the crystals catch the beams from the sunshine slanting in on them through the clouds. The ring was compact but intricate, three softly coloured crystals embedded in golden vines.

“It was my grandmother's,” she told him.

“It’s beautiful.” Xander returned it to the case and she felt his eye on her as she put it away. “And you want Willow to have it?”

Tara’s heart sank, they were back here again all too soon. She nodded, unable to face him.

Tension hung between them and Xander laughed nervously. “You look pretty upset for someone all set to pop the question…” When she didn’t laugh along he trailed off, sobering and Tara realized she had to explain before this got even more unbearably uncomfortable.

“When I died, she almost k-ki…” She swallowed. _If you can’t even bring yourself to talk about it, you have no right to be asking these questions._ “When Willow tried to kill everyone, you never gave up on her. Even when she was at her worst, you never treated her like she wasn’t Willow anymore.”

“Neither did you,” he insisted. “You saw everything when you were a… Um…what was that again?”

“Astral projection,” Tara told him.

 It was a gift she hadn’t even known she’d had, but the bullet had awoken it. Shocked her soul from her body, giving her the appearance of death. It was actually what had saved her life, keeping her body in stasis long enough for the doctors to saver her. She’d still never been able to do it again though, still wasn’t sure if she wanted to. It had been the worst experience of her life, even worse than the room in her head Glory had trapped her in.

She’d seen her own body, lifeless in Willows arms. She’d seen- _felt_ \- Willow’s rage, her unrelenting grief, felt the darkness in her. She’d felt every piece of dark magics she’d taken in and all the agony that came with it. Tara hadn’t known she wasn’t dead and she’d almost hoped this was hell, that it wasn’t real, because Willow wouldn’t stop no matter how much she screamed and begged for her to. She was invisible when she most needed to be seen and she’d had no idea how to make any of it stop.

Xander had saved Willow though. Actually, really, he’d saved both of them, because it was only knowing that Willow was OK, and the world really wasn’t going to end, that had allowed Tara to find her way back to her own body.

And then, as she’d recovered, she’d refused to let Willow see her, even though she knew how much that hurt her. She was worried that the way she’d look at her would hurt worse. She was worried that she’d be afraid of her… or afraid of herself because at the height of Willow’s pain Tara had thought for a brief second that she too would sacrifice the world to make it stop. She’d realized she loved Willow more than all of it in the most terrifying way she could imagine.

Willow’s love for her was dangerous, and maybe so was hers for Willow. For a very long time, she’d thought that meant maybe they weren’t supposed to be together.

Months had passed though; Willow had recovered, gotten stronger, made Tara proud even she couldn’t tell her that. She’d fallen again, for someone else.

In the end, that was the first thing to turn Tara’s mind in the other direction. Not the jealousy, but the realization that Willow _would_ fall in love again and, probably, Tara would too. It wasn’t _their_ love, but love itself that had caused all that pain. Love, all love, was pain, but it was also the greatest source of joy and good in the world. How could she ask either of them to live without it? Tara had realized that it wasn’t what they felt, but who they were when they felt it that mattered.

And Willow wasn’t the person she was when they’d first fallen in love, or the person she was when Tara had died. Tara wasn’t the same person either, she’d changed, but her love for Willow hadn’t.  So when Willow’s new girlfriend had left, and that relationship had been over for a while, Tara had returned to her.

It hadn’t been easy but Willow had been just as eager to talk with her as Tara had been. It hadn’t been easy to explain everything, or for both of them to trust one another again, but brick by brick they’d built it all back up and it was worth every ache and blister along the way.

Now though, when everything seemed to be going so well, Tara was hesitating. It wasn’t because she didn’t trust Willow. This time, it was because she didn’t trust herself.

“You two went through a lot,” Xander said, breaking into her thoughts. “But… things are better now right? I’ve seen you two together, you’re like peperoni and pizza.”

Tara hung her head, worms squiggling in her stomach. Things being better now didn’t erase all the mistakes she’d made, or the ones she’d make again.

“She thought I hated her,” she whispered. “Willow thought I thought she was a monster.”

There was a sudden flash of emotion from Xander. Anger, sorrow, she couldn’t tell, but she knew he was thinking about his best friend. For a long while, they sat in silence. Tara still wasn’t used to the powers the bullet had let out and even less used to dealing so directly with the things other people were feeling. She usually wasn’t powerful enough to detect anything more than the strongest emotions but, unfortunately, those were often the most difficult to come to terms with.

“Yeah,” Xander said at last.

Tears burned in the corners of her eyes. It was the one thing she hadn’t been counting on, but she should have been. She should have known what Willow would think if she didn’t explain, but she’d also known how much harder it would be to leave her if she’d had to say goodbye. 

_I wasn’t strong enough for her then. What if I’m still not now?_

Xander’s fingers wrapped around her hand, startling her into her looking up. He gave her a firm squeeze. “You did what you thought was right.”

Another flash of emotion, raining down like a thunderclap. Regret, pain, grief. Rain and wedding bells. It was almost too much to bear but she didn’t let go. Instead she met his eye, giving the tiniest nod to tell him she understood and in return he gave the slightest nod back.

_I’ve got you._

She could finish this conversation. She could be strong.

“My family raised me to believe I was evil,” she said steadily. “From as long as I could remember, they made me think there was something wrong with me.” She shook her head, hot tears rolling onto her cheeks. “I can’t do that to Willow.”

Xander took his hand back, but not before giving hers another firm squeeze. “Do you love scary veiny Willow?” he asked.

She sniffed, nodding. _Of course I do._

“Do you love powerful Wicca Willow?”

Another nod. She whipped her eyes.

“And you love no magic Willow?” he went on. “Willow the computer whiz? Willow who eats that last slice of pizza?”

More nodding. They were easy questions.

“You love stubborn Willow? And thoughtful Willow? And Scooby Willow?”

“I love all of her, Xander,” Tara told him. “That’s why I want to marry her.”

“I think,” he said slowly. “The only difference between you and me… is… or it might be… that I’ve told her how I feel.”

She blinked at him.

“You have told her, haven’t you?” he asked.

Had she? She racked her brain, going through each part of their long and difficult recovery. “Not in so many words,” she admitted. “I thought she knew.”

 But maybe that had been too grand an assumption. Hadn’t Tara herself worried about the parts of her Willow wouldn’t be able to love? Why should she expect Willow to know any better than she did?

Tara shrunk into herself, feeling small and weak and stupid. “I’m just afraid I’m going to hurt her,” she whispered. “What if I’m not good enough for her?”

“You are,” Xander told her. “Both of them,” he elaborated when she stared back confused. “I don’t know if it’s any of my business but…” His mouth twitched and, apparently deciding that it was, he went on. “Willow’s my best friend. I know what makes her happy and I want what’s best for her. If I thought you weren’t good enough for her, I’d tell you. And so would Buffy.”

“But what if I break her heart?” Tara asked, still uncertain.

Xander shrugged. “Maybe you will. Marriage can go bad sometimes, trust me I know.”

Tara sighed, shoulders sagging, but he nudged her hand, determined.

“They go right sometimes too,” he insisted. “You can’t know how what hasn’t happened yet will happen.” He hesitated. “You… you can’t right? You can’t see into the future or-“

“I can’t see the future,” Tara answered. “Not yet. And I don’t think I ever will with Willow. She’s too…” But there were no words to truly convey what Willow was. “She’s a lot.”

He leaned back in his seat, puffing out a breath. “Yeah.”

Little things she could do. Inconsequential things. The rain before it fell, the way a leaf would wander down a stream. Looking at Willow though, was like looking at the universe. Billions of stars and planets, infinitely wide and filled with impossible wonders. Willow had once said she felt as if she were part of the universe, part of the stars. Now Tara knew the truth, that for her, Willow was the universe. She couldn’t even begin to try to protect all of it, not even from herself, or to see every inch of it, but she loved all of it. Maybe Xander was right and that was enough.

“I’m scared,” she said, but already she felt the last wall beginning to crumble.

“Scared of Willow or scared of getting married?” Xander asked.

The question cut like a knife, but it was a fair one. She lifted her chin, meeting his eye steadily.

“Scared of getting married to Willow,” she said. “I want to. I c-can’t….” She made herself pause, find the words. “I can’t see the future but I can imagine it and I want it. But I’m scared I’m not enough.”

Xander looked at her, uncharacteristically serious. “You’re enough.”

“But-“ He was being kind.

“Tara you’re enough for anyone,” he insisted. “And whether or not you’re enough for Willow isn’t up to us, it’s up to her. Is she enough for you?”

“Yes.” _So much so._

“Then I think you should ask her,” he advised. “For what it’s worth… running away from something good because it might turn out badly doesn’t mean it still can’t turn out badly.”

Another spark of pain and this time Tara couldn’t help herself. She got up and swung around the table to envelope him in a tight hug. She hadn’t meant to hurt him like this, she hadn’t expected this conversation to echo what he’d been through, but she was grateful for his wisdom. Still she felt her own fear gripping her like ice, and she felt his regret coursing through her as if it were her own, but something brighter flickered between them, something both of them felt.

Hope.

“Maybe we can get it right,” he said as she pulled away. “If anyone can, it’s you two.”

His words took her by surprise. “You really believe that?”

“Tara,” he said smiling. “Anyone who’s seen you and Willow together can believe that.”

Tara smiled, warmed by his friendship and on her way to believing what he was saying. The ring in her bag sang to her, music enticing her to try, the universe unfolding in front of her and she wanted to spend her life exploring every inch of it, every inch of Willow inside and out.

A grin spread across her face. “I’d better figure out how I’m going to do this then.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that this is Tara's version of events, not mine. That's why her name is spelled with an a not an e like mine is lol.
> 
> also it's obviously not canon lol but shhh. 
> 
> also it turned out a lot more angsty than I thought it would. It is very different from the first two but it still fits the premise so I kept them all together


End file.
